Broken Lies the Road
by Majesta Moniet
Summary: Bella can't get on the plane to save Edward. She gets in a cab instead, with Jacob Black her final destination. Rated for sexual content.


**AN:** I wrote this fic last night for **thankthatstar**, who has been feeling under the weather and greatly enjoys some J/B sexytimes. That being said, this fic is not a spoonful of sugar. Please be aware that this story contains explicit sex. Not much plot to be had, really.

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**Broken Lies the Road**

Her heart wasn't working right. It was too loud, too fast, too much. And it hurt. Badly.

But her knee was broken too. It kept popping up and down, almost bumping the cab seat in front of her as they turned onto the road leading into La Push.

And her stomach…

She pictured Alice's disappointed face left hanging lowly in the airport terminal and felt nauseous. But there was a voice on the radio singing about home, and she tried to picture Jacob's relieved face instead.

Jacob wouldn't understand at first. He'd be angry and wouldn't want to talk to her because she had picked Alice's panic over his concern. And, of course, _Bella_ knew why she'd done it. When Edward had left, he had taken with him heaping handfuls of her heart, and when she learned that he and those precious pieces were in danger of falling—breaking—she had leapt blindly to their rescue, hands outstretched on reflex to catch them and save herself.

But if she were able to say it right—to make Jacob see past the gaping holes of her heart she had been careless with—she could convince him that she had been more thoughtful with the parts of her heart that remained. Because she had entrusted them to _him_.

The cab was still rolling up to the Black's house when Bella jumped from back, hating the ten precious seconds it took to pull crisp bills from her pocket and drop them in through the passenger side window.

Jacob's name was a whispered mantra on her lips as she stumbled along at a near run in her hasty effort to cross the front yard. She paused only momentarily at the door—hand raised as if she needed to knock—before pushing it open and falling gracelessly inside.

It was silent. Empty. Bella wiped away the tears blurring her vision, but there was still no Jacob rushing out to see her. No Jacob staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. No Jacob threatening to tie her down if she didn't start thinking straight.

Bella's resolution stood precariously on the edge, eyeing the fifty story drop that awaited its failure.

_No!_ He had to be home. If he wasn't home…

Bella couldn't think about _if_.

So she pushed forward. Because maybe he was in his room sleeping. Or maybe he was in the garage. Or—the jarring sound of chair legs scraping against wood carried into the living room—maybe he was in the kitchen.

Darting past the couch, Bella charged into the little kitchen that hadn't changed a bit since her childhood and nearly tripped over Jacob, who was sitting at the sturdy oak table. Eating a sandwich.

"Jacob!"

He looked over at her briefly. "Oh. Hey, Bella." And then he took another bite of his sandwich.

"Jacob, I need—"

"A passport? Sorry. Wolves don't bother with trivial things like geo-political boundaries. If we want to go to Canada, nobody at customs is going to stop us."

"No. I'm not—"

"Sane? Yeah, I know, considering one of your requirements for a boyfriend is, 'Must resemble Kid's Crest toothpaste when exposed to UV rays.'"

"Jacob," she groaned, begging him to see all the _now_ and not the _then_, because they were so clearly distinct in her own mind.

He set the sandwich down long enough to knock back a long gulp of milk. "Aren't you gonna miss your flight?" he mocked from over the rim.

She risked stepping closer. "I already missed the flight. Alice left without me."

Jacob finally turned toward her. "Really? Because she seemed dead set on you going with her. Otherwise…"

"She was. But she wasn't going to force me to go."

"_Make_ you?" he echoed dubiously and with no small amount of anger. "She didn't have to _make_ you do anything. She told you Edward needed you to jump off a cliff, and you asked for directions to the highest one."

"I know," Bella conceded before taking a deep breath and gathering the feeble courage she'd been carefully tending for the last hour. "I panicked and made a bad decision. But when we got to the airport and we were waiting in the terminal, I tried to focus and see Edward's face in my mind—"

"I really don't need to hear this."

"—but I couldn't. All I got were bits and pieces that have faded over time—since he left. But when I think of you, Jake, I see everything. I know every bit of your face. If I want, I can close my eyes and imagine you're standing right in front of me, and it's almost like you really are there. And you're always smiling."

Jacob wasn't touching his food anymore.

"And I realized then that if I had to pick the single most important person in my life in that very moment, I would have chosen you. Even while I was standing there waiting for our plane to board."

She watched Jacob struggling to contain something inside of him. "What are you saying, Bella?" he asked quietly, voice frayed with reluctant hope.

Closing the final distance between them, Bella touched her fingers to his temple. "I'm saying that I chose to let Edward go so that I could back here to you. And if you don't want me…not anymore…I don't know what I'm going to do."

The words hung there between them with an almost tangible permanence. And then Jacob reached _through_ them to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her closer so that their knees knocked together clumsily.

"You've been crying," he noted and reached up to catch the tears that had started falling the moment she'd turned her back on Alice. On Edward. On who she had been just that morning.

Bella nodded and leaned into body, sensing his acceptance in the warmth of his voice and touch.

"Don't cry," he said quietly and then kissed her.

And Bella knew that somewhere on the other side of the world, handfuls of her heart were shattering into tiny, irreparable pieces upon a cold, hard floor. But what remained of the battered organ was pounding rigorously in her chest, tripping and rushing in response to the way Jacob's body pressed against hers as she crawled shamelessly into his lap before her legs gave way.

Her hands went for his hair, threading into the soft strands at the base of his neck, and pulling his face closer so that when she parted her lips there was no doubt that she wanted his tongue sliding along hers.

But Jacob didn't need prodding. Wanting Bella wasn't something that required convincing, and pleasing her hardly required instructions, not when his body felt like it already knew hers so well, could detect every blush and shiver that reciprocated every tug of his hands.

He kissed and touched her with the same unapologetic abandonment he loved her with. This—melting into one another on a kitchen chair, lost in taste and touch—was a natural extension of who they were together, of what Jake and Bells had always been.

It was natural for Bella's lips to skim the dips of his clavicle and then taste them with her tongue. It was natural for Jacob's hands to slide along the smoothness her back hidden beneath her t-shirt. It was natural for them to crave skin on skin and for clothes to start falling away without thought.

It wasn't until Jacob had Bella—just Bella and her blue cotton underwear—on his kitchen table with her naked thighs spread around him, that he began to question if what was natural was also right.

"Bells?" he asked distractedly, torn between watching her small fingers undo the buckle of his belt or admiring the way her pale breast looked cupped in the palm of his darker hand.

"Jake?" The belt was gone along with their anxiety. There was only a calm need for them to be together in this way. They were going to experience _something_ that was solely them and solely theirs. And there was no stopping it, no need for it _to_ be stopped.

Jacob's words were just something to fill the space it took for him to move back and step out of his shorts. "And you want this? Right now?"

Her nod came easily. She laid back on the table, shuddering when the cold surface touched so much of her skin all at once. She imagined Jacob touching so much of her and shivered again. "Yes, Jake. Now, please. You and me."

But he was already hooking his thumbs under blue cotton and sliding it down long legs. He was nodding, relieved and strained all at once. "You and me," he repeated, sounding almost wistful, as if _you and me_ wasn't actually happening.

He pulled her back up to him, and Bella—in her first hesitant gesture since she'd thrown herself inside a cab outside of Sea-Tac—wrapped her hand around his length, moving slowly and softly, reacting internally to the tense sounds and jerks of his body.

"Bells," he hissed and caught her wrist. "If we're going to do this, we need to do it now. I can't…"

She understood and spread her leg wider. He moved forward, kissed her softly, and whispered, "I love you."

Bella's eyes fell shut. "Love you."

He moved against her.

And the pain urged new tears. Because god…it…it felt as if she were being torn apart from the inside, where all hurt and all suffering seemed to hit its stride. And she felt like she was breaking, shattering across the kitchen table, with only the burning pressure of Jacob's hands beneath her thighs and the anxious murmur of his words against her temple keeping the pieces together.

"Fuck…Bells…maybe we—"

"_No_," was her gasped response, and, bracing a hand behind her and the other around his neck, she pulled and pushed all at once so that the table fell away, and it was just Jacob and Bella for the briefest—sweetest—of moments.

The pain beneath her stomach throbbed in time with her heart, but one of Jacob's hands slid up to her ass to keep her flush against him just a little bit longer, and Bella decided it was worth it. She dropped back to the kitchen table with Jacob's approving moan coaxing a damp smile from her lips.

His thumbs circled her half-closed eyes. Her hands found purchase on his hips. His teeth scraped her shoulder raw. Her lips urged him to _move_.

And that was where she found it. The friction of him sliding against her and the hollowness replaced by the fullness, replaced by hollowness, replaced by the fullness, replaced by—the give felt just as good and just as awful as the take, and Bella knew that _that_ was what she'd been looking for. She wanted to be taken from and she wanted to enjoy the burn.

She wanted Jacob to take from her harder.

Because something warm and perfect was curling tantalizingly beneath the ebbing pain. There was something there. Some pleasure to work for. Each rock of his hips that she rode spurred it higher and tighter, and if she could just _reach it_…

She needed harder and faster and more, more, more of him.

"Jake." His name tumbled from her as a plea for understanding even as her legs tightened around his hips and her chest arched into his. And the new friction was slick with sweat and the heady realization that Bella had never been touched so much in her life, and Jacob…god…Jacob was touching her _everywhere_.

"I know," he breathed anxiously. "I know. We're—"

She caught what they were with her tongue, reaching in past his lips to steal the words and his next breath, so that the movement of his hips jerked erratically. Then he struck something inside of her that urged a cry from the back of her throat, and she rocked forward on the table until she was perched precariously against the edge, Jacob bearing her weight—just as he always had.

"So close," he breathed, gaining urgency and a tempo that had Bella's head falling back and her eyes squeezing shut. Her nails bit a frenzied trail from his chest down across his abdomen as her subconscious chorused _all mine, mine, mine, mine…_

And then the hand he had wound in her hair jerked almost painfully as he went completely rigid against her. Even his lungs seemed to still, his breath catching noiselessly against her damp neck. Bella felt his release the same time her own tentative control fell away, abandoned in favor of the sensation screaming through her veins and stealing away her sight and rational thought.

The back of her eyelids filled with bright colors just as her lungs were emptied of Jacob's name.

Their rhythm slowed even as she went pliant in his arms, and she felt him then more intently than she had before, as if their bodies gave just enough to really touch for the first time. And she felt all of him at once.

Bella was barely aware of the restraining hands softening her backwards decent to the table top. Her nerves were burning in the most pleasant way even as her mind slowly reclaimed its body in a heavy, heady onslaught of sensation that left Bella with half-lidded eyes and a heaving chest.

But she was aware enough to lock her fingers around Jacob's wrists and chain them to either side of her when he made to pull away. "Let's stay like this for a little while," she murmured and curled her limp legs back around his body, holding him hostage inside of her in a way that was no longer selfish. (Because now he was the _only_ person she kept inside.)

Jacob sunk forward onto his elbows so that their noses were brushing and all the yellow kitchen light was blocked away. Bella inhaled and was suddenly surrounded by the satisfying scent of salt and exertion.

"A little while?" he mused, still searching for breath as desperately as she was. His lips fell to her ear. "We've got a flat surface and refrigerator. I can't imagine us having to go anywhere ever again."

_FIN_

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**AN:** A big thanks to **filmi_girl** for her awesome beta work. She made some great suggestions that improved this short little fic bunches. :)


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